Inside the Mystery Box
It's a little bit awesome keeping a secret,
having the self-discipline to refrain from
sharing a shining bit of your inner life,
to maintain your silence and keep the cat
securely in the bag, to enjoy a private
narrative and watch its possibilities play
out in an array of hidden scenarios.
Suppose, for example, that I were to save
all my extra cash, stashed away in a box
or sock drawer for the day when I could
pay for the entirety of an unplanned for
vacation with my wife and kids, and day
by day, I have this happy space made
of my many fantasies- the accolades,
Dad the amazing provider and husband
of the year, and all the destinations,
the whole world laid before us if only
I save long enough, have the will to delay
gratification- Italy, Greece, Antartica!
And every delicious moment stays
delicious as long as it remains unsaid,
my own magnanimous oasis in my head.
I can be an insider, in on the inside joke,
walking past folks and showing no sign
that it's only a matter of time until I bring
down the house with my big reveal, or
delight my audience with the plot twist,
the narrative flair I've hidden in plain sight.
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